


Dueling Shots

by Typey



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: AU, F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-04
Updated: 2013-01-04
Packaged: 2017-12-26 09:48:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/964511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Typey/pseuds/Typey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Professor Bering keeps running into the same woman at the campus coffee shop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dueling Shots

The first time, Myka was late for her undergrad class on British literature and hoping the jolt of caffeine in her double would get her through 70 minutes of uninspired discussion from her section of freshmen. She was distracted by her plans for an exercise she wanted to introduce the next week — “So, how would the canon have been different if some, or even one, of our favorite male authors were women?” Would any of her students actually think it through? — and almost ran straight into another body.

A graceful sidestep and an elegant sweep of an arm gave Myka room to pass through the café door, but not before she noticed a slight quirk on the lips of the chivalrous patron.

The second time, Myka had said goodbye to the students in her graduate seminar and turned to leave the popular campus hangout. She got caught amid a group of chattering undergrads and nearly dropped her shoulder bag. “Excuse me, may I be of assistance?” Myka’s head turned at the accented query, catching sight of the same smile she’d seen the week before at just about the same spot. A capable-looking hand reached toward her, not quite encroaching on her personal space.

“Ah, uh. No. No, thank you.” Myka gathered herself before she could stammer any more inanities and left without returning the smile.

Myka ended up at “Dueling Shots” on a whim, the third time. She wasn’t normally a weekend coffee-drinker, but her two earlier encounters with the strikingly beautiful Englishwoman left her hoping that karma or cosmic alignment or just plain good luck would lead to another. Looking at her phone to see if it was about the same time she had been there four days earlier, she missed the curb and stumbled a few steps to the just-opening glass door of the coffee shop. That capable-looking hand proved sufficient to steady Myka, and its owner seemed quite pleased with herself.

Removing her hand from Myka’s bicep, the woman offered it in greeting. “Hello, my name is Helena.” She pointed at the campus coffee shop’s logo of two espresso cups angled toward each other, cartoon scowls painted on the sides and unholstered whipped-cream dispensers to indicate faux antagonism, and said with some amusement and not a little bit of regret, “it seems as if we’re forever destined to meet at gunpoint.”


End file.
